Chu Jingyi cradled her phone, cheeks puffed like an angry pufferfish. Her eyes darted as she puzzled over Lu Li’s latest trick. After a pause, she typed a message.

【Silly Goose: I’m your older sister!】

Lu Li seemed stunned—silence stretched. A smug grin spread across Chu Jingyi’s face. *Hmph, serves you right for playing dumb~ Good thing I’m clever.* But as minutes ticked by with no reply, unease crept in. *Should I pretend to be mad? Play along with his weird game? Maybe he’d finally respond…*

She hesitated—asking felt too desperate. Instead, she sent a bomb emoji. A clear nudge: *Reply already.*

【Lu Li: Lu Li’s asleep. Who are you?】

【Silly Goose: Liar. If he’s asleep, who’s texting me?】

【Lu Li: I’m his girlfriend.】

Chu Jingyi’s smile froze. Staring at those words, a tight knot formed in her chest. *Another prank… but why does “girlfriend” sting so much?* She tossed in bed, chewing the word. An Baili had claimed that title too—but back then, as class monitor, she hadn’t flinched. Maybe her slow little brain sensed how distant An Baili and Lu Li really were?

【Silly Goose: Stop lying! I’m mad!】

She pouted, reasoning inwardly: *Lu Li has no girlfriend. He’d tell me. This lie crumbles with one poke.*

Soon, a photo arrived. Lu Li slept, eyes closed. Dim light revealed a woman’s arm around his neck—half a chin, rosy lips visible. Face hidden, yet undeniably beautiful.

Chu Jingyi blinked, scanning for Photoshop traces. *Why won’t I believe it?* A bitter trickle seeped through her chest.

【Silly Goose: Lie again and I’ll never talk to you!】

She waited for his laugh: *“Haha, almost got you!”* or *“Sorry, won’t do it again.”* Silence. Her gaze clung to the photo. *He’s resting in her arm… so peaceful. But he’s only a high school sophomore—how could he… sleep with a girl?*

*Wait. He’s my friend. I should be happy. No—I should stop this! As class monitor and friend, it’s my duty!*

Thoughts clashed like tiny warriors in her head. Chaos. Loss. She remembered spotting Lu Li at the bookstore before term started—her heart had leaped. She’d never properly apologized for last year: insisting his parents be called, causing him weeks of trouble. *Silly Goose* had carried that guilt.

So recognizing his name wasn’t chance. But why did *he* call her “Class Monitor”? *Am I just a passerby to him?* The tighter she gripped the thought, the heavier her chest felt. *Does he even see me as a friend? He’s always floated on the class edges… Was I just fawning over him?*

A girl’s heart spins wild theories—right or wrong, gain or loss, hope or dread.

Just as her lower lip trembled, “Lu Li” replied.

【Lu Li: I’m not lying. Who are you to him?】

*What a tone…* Her pout deepened. She typed *“I’m his best—”* then deleted it. *What if he denies it? Like pressing a warm face to a cold shoulder?* Pride flickered. She erased the draft, phone clutched tight. *He made me wait. I’ll wait too. Instant replies feel… lesser.*

Minutes passed. Her eyes welled.

【Silly Goose: Tell Lu Li to talk to me】

No period. Uncharacteristic. She didn’t want the woman. She wanted *Lu Li*.

She felt like a deflated rubber ball—tossed, squeezed, hollow. This strange pull: her joy and anger tethered to someone else’s breath.

A voice message played—a smooth female voice: *“Lu Li’s asleep. Tell me your message. I’ll pass it on tomorrow.”*

Confirmed. Not him. She replayed it endlessly, picturing a poised woman holding the phone, Lu Li nestled beside her. Sourness bloomed—like biting unripe citrus, every exhale sharp with acid.

She curled into a ball. Today, she’d messaged to share the revised song, hoping for his praise, craving casual chatter—*anything*. Just to talk with her best friend. Now, joy shattered. Like childhood: sprinting home with a perfect test, begging Dad to keep his promise… only to hear, *“Too busy. Next time.”*

Like losing Stitch—the plush toy she’d sobbed over, believing gone forever. That was her first taste of *loss*. Today, the second.

Innocent Chu Jingyi couldn’t name the ache—not sharp grief, but a silent river flowing under thick ice. *Is it betrayal?*

That night, she never slept.

*

Lu Li woke to a pounding hangover, sun blazing high. A stale alcohol scent lingered on his breath.

His lips felt swollen. *Too much water?* He touched them—*sausage lips*. *Drink less today.* His clothes hung dry on the balcony—sister must’ve washed them. Only boxers remained. A faint stickiness clung to his inner thighs; spilled liquor, probably.

As he rose, the bathroom door opened. Sister Yamei stepped out, toothbrush in hand.

“Sister Yamei?! Why are you in *my* room?” His room was private—she shared with Zhou Wen.

Zou Yamei’s eyes darted away. Mumbled words blurred. Before Lu Li caught them, she slipped back inside—*slammed* the door shut.